Princess Martell
by Aslog
Summary: Sequel to Lady Umber. Now a widow, the Princess of Winter must once again do her duty. No Flamers please.


Lady Martell

Princess Sansa was a widow, a scant five years after she was a wife. She awoke one morning to find that Lord Umber had passed away quietly in his sleep; a stark contrast to boisterous life.

She had quietly raised the alarm and informed her good son Smalljon, that his father was dead.

Her sorrow had bowed her head, but she did her duty as a wife and stood vigil over her husband's body. Her children clutched at her skirts, and with the household looking on she let her crystal tears fall silently. It was the only sign of her grief, and all of Last Hearth sorrowed with her.

She understood that her time here was over.

She was no longer Lady Umber but once again Princess Sansa. An outsider in a place she considered her home.

She was unbound by a husband but bound by her duty.

At a scant eight and ten years old, with proved fertility, it was her duty to make a powerful alliance for the North.

She waited for as long as was possible and drank in her time with her three sons. She stared at their faces hungrily; committing them to her memory and praying they would remember her. Giving them a few little keepsakes that would bring her to mind.

Even when she was not with them, she was an attentive mother; extracting promises and favours from the household to ensure her sons would grow up never wanting.

Having done all that she could for her children, she said her farewells to Last Hearth.

The entire household saw her off, and there were tears in everyone's eyes as she mounted her fearsome black horse and rode to Winterfell.

Princess Sansa was at Winterfell a month before she began to make her way south to her new husband.

The retinue of Winter arrived at Sunspear with much fanfare and with a great deal of wonder from the surrounding people.

Never had they seen men so big and rough. Even the way they rode there big, hairy horses was different from the smooth gait of the Dornish people. To the people, the North folk had the sickly pallor of the dying, and a few pitied there Prince for having to marry a North woman.

That was before they caught a glimpse of the Princess of Winter.

She rode in the centre of the congregation and was so heavily guarded that the people had to crane their heads to get a glimpse of her.

That one small look was enough to spark talk through all Dorne.

Never had they seen such an exotic beauty before.

Riding on a velvet black steed, draped in gossamer cloth to protect her moonstone skin and her red hair spilling from beneath a veil like liquid fire.

No longer did her body hold the traces of slender childhood, she had bloomed into full womanhood. Time and childbirth having given her the full breasts and wide hips that were so prized in Dorne.

As she passed into the gates of the Old Palace, as graceful as water and with all eyes turned on her, more than one Dornishman understood Rheagar and his desires.

Princess Sansa was married to Oberyn Martell in a Sept and then a Godswood. He was so different from her first husband it was almost comical.

Prince Oberyn was a height with her while Lord Umber had towered over her. Lord Umber had been as broad as a house with rippling muscles and wild hair everywhere. In contrast, Prince Oberyn was leanly built, with wiry muscles, a clean-shaven face and his hair pulled back neatly.

She wasn't fooled enough to believe this marriage would go as well as her first one. She knew of Prince Oberyn's reputation, inside and outside the bedchamber.

He wouldn't be a faithful husband to her, and she prayed to the Old Gods to give her the strength to bear her marriage with honour.

Soon she was alone amongst strangers, alone and unwanted and that didn't dissipate over time. She was tainted by the legacy of her Aunt Lyanna. There were small cruelties done to her, little things like her being served strong sour wine when all knew her distaste for it and her not being welcomed with the other Ladies of court. It was not big enough to make a fuss over it, but it served to make her uncomfortable.

It put her in mind of her mind in Kings Landing.

The only solace Sansa had was the ravens she received from Last Hearth with reports of her children.

She rarely saw much of her husband as he was generally with his lover, Elliria. She was a striking woman, and while she was kind, she made it clear that she was first in Oberyn's heart. But she was good company, and together they visited the Watergardens and Sansa was introduced to all of Prince Oberyn's daughters.

Prince Oberyn wasn't cruel to his new wife and hadn't put any restrictions on her, but he was distant and unconcerned with her. In the first days of their marriage, they formed a polite, if aloof, friendship.

It was enough to allow him into her bed, which he visited regularly. Although only after his time with Elliria.

Princess Sansa had only been married four turnings of the moon before she found herself pregnant. For the first time since coming to Dorne, she felt happy. The joy of her children sustained her always, and in unforgiving Dorne, a child would ease her loneliness.

After already having three sons, she was pleased with the thought of a daughter. Everyone knew that Prince Oberyn had never sired a son and there was no reason to believe it wouldn't be the same this time.

So it was to everyone's surprise that after gruelling labour she gave birth to a healthy son.

Prince Oberyn was overjoyed when he was presented with the boy. She had done what no other women had done for him.


End file.
